


Take Me With You

by just_alessia



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Needs Love, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Alternate Universe - Classical Music, Alternate Universe - Medical, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso | Your Lie in April Fusion, F/M, Family Issues, Sick Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Terminal Illnesses, Violinist Marinette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 16,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24818677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_alessia/pseuds/just_alessia
Summary: 16-year-old Parisian Marinette Dupain-Cheng was diagnosed with Friedreich's Ataxia at the age of eleven, an incurable slowly progressing genetic disease that'll eventually kill her.She hides the misery it brings her. After all, it's easy to think that she's just some mad klutz, but one thing she'll never give up is the music that keeps her alive, the music that brought him to her.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. first meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Some specific characters are respectfully owned by Zagtoons for Miraculous Ladybug. However, this is an original story, so some details from the series won't apply here. Nonetheless, please enjoy it!

The music that brought him there, its many different harmonies combined with so much emotion made it more than entrancing that he could stay there all day watching as she continued to play.

Despite the noise from the football match that was currently happening, he got himself determined to find who was behind such a serene sound. Add to the fact that it was, by far, the best rendition of Bach-Allemande he's ever heard.

Adrien turned the corner, finally finding the violinist sitting on a concrete tree bench, her eyes focusing on the strings of her violin as she played. He casually leaned on the wall, avoiding any moss before his eyes, once again, fell on her.

"Hi," she said, stopping her music before the proper ending.

"What?" He wasn't really able to register that.

She chuckled as he furrowed his eyebrows in oblivion.

"O-oh! Hi! Y-you noticed me." He swallowed some pooling saliva before subconsciously shaking his head in embarrassment, dragging her attention to his messy golden hair.

"Of course I did, and I don't think you ever intended to hide," she said, placing the violin on her lap.

"Yeah, I guess... I just had to see who was playing."

"I don't usually get an audience besides my best friend and an auditorium filled with people who paid ten euros to hear me play. So, was it good?"

He momentarily stared at the case leaning on the bench before answering.

"It'd be lying to say it wasn't brilliant."

She smiled at him before they both furrowed their brows at the bell. It was at least ten minutes early that even someone without a watch knew that.

"That was way too early, but I guess we can't really argue with the teacher responsible for ringing it. I just wish she'd ring it later next time," she said, shrugging as she quickly packed her violin.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I hope we see each other soon," she said after hastily putting on a jacket before leaving.

He'd have to make sure to meet her again, making certain to say his name because he certainly won't miss the chance of befriending her.

<>

It was just the end of the school day. Weirdly enough, he was allowed to walk home, and he didn't need to go home immediately.

It was fairly chilly, being that it was September. He couldn't hate it, though. It was Paris, for god's sake. Thankfully, irises here and there were distracting enough.

Dark hair caught his eye, something he wasn't expecting to happen until further notice. It was her again, but with slumped shoulders and a grimace not enough to destroy her beauty.

She guided herself to a bench before propping up a leg to her chest.

Before he knew it, he was sitting beside her, not creating any eye contact, and looking like they were about to exchange inside information like in the movies.

She dropped her leg and leaned back on the bench, partially to acknowledge his presence.

"I didn't expect to see you again so soon," he said.

"It is somewhat your fault. You didn't tell me your name. For all I know, you could be my kidnapper disguised as a student." She leaned forward to play with her sandals before tilting her head at him.

"I'm guessing it's just you to talk smart."

She surprised him again when she abruptly stood up, whining before turning to look at him, her ponytail landing on her shoulder.

"Since the girls couldn't make it, and you're here, I'm appointing you as their substitute."

He was speechless at the moment, unable to process again what she was saying before,

"O-okay, t-then I guess, I'm Adrien Agreste."

"Nice to meet you, Adrien Agreste," she said, giving him a sharp nod.


	2. and friends

She hadn't really regarded how he just stared at the dessert in front of him. Maybe not just stared, but he sure was taking too much time eating it.

She wasn't at all gentle with the jelly cake. Two pieces were enough for her to consider that she was in heaven.

She looked at him disappointingly, "You're gonna get me fat. This isn't a high-class restaurant where you need to eat slowly to be polite," she said, releasing her hair from its ponytail.

"If you're begging for an icebreaker, fire away with your questions 'cause I barely know you either," he said in an encouraging tone.

"Okay," she said, letting her hair fall on her shoulders before tilting her head a little bit to the right.

He was told girls liked to do this. Maybe to look a bit more daring, but he sure had to stop himself from either laughing or furrowing his brows.

"Just some random questions. What's your favorite time of day?"

"Morning. I live near Montmartre, so I guess I've fallen in love with the morning breeze and the birds chirping."

"Hmm... Well, I live a few meters from the Eiffel tower, but when the streets are silent, and the Eiffel tower's lights are off at three in the morning, I just like to stare at the stars."

"Okay, your turn." She took another bite from her strawberry dacquoise.

"Who's your favorite artist?" He ran a hand through his hair, which still caught her fancy.

"Jagged Stone forever, you know? But I've got myself a personal playlist of songs to cry about." She thought his laugh was gorgeous, so she joined in. Good thing, he was done chewing, or else he would've choked.

"What's your favorite dessert so far?"

"What do you mean? You're one to talk. This has been the only slice I've bought so far." His voice got her swooning somehow.

He felt his phone vibrate before subconsciously answering, not bothering to look at the caller's ID since he knew very well who it was.

"Yeah, I'll be at the station in five." He leaned back on his seat, releasing a sigh before searching for his bag under the table.

"Call from a parent? I guess it is getting pretty late."

"I'm not exactly heading home immediately. They want me to meet someone who desperately wants to meet me. Part of life, I guess."

"Well, before you leave, I'm inviting you to come to my next performance. It's on Friday, at the Salle Gaveau, some seven in the evening. Although I might need to hide you from my best friend because she'll certainly be curious about how I managed to befriend a guy."

He smiled at her before sporting their school blazer back on. "I'm glad you liked my company. Although I didn't get to know much about you, we're friends, so I bet we'd see each other more often."

He liked the feeling, even if it was just for a moment. He's never successfully hung out with a girl by himself before, maybe that was why he quickly grew intrigued. He just hated that his father had to interrupt the good things happening to him. It was irritating.


	3. your music

He stood at the lobby, not sure whether he was supposed to wait for her or to enter the theater already. He got a program outline from the concierge, briefly skimming through it before proceeding to the main hall.

Adrien saw her as he turned the corner, just looking around until their eyes met. She gave him some smug look. He didn't see her this morning at school. It worried him but seeing her now really was a relief.

"There you go again staring at nothing," she says, rolling her eyes. He felt his heartbeat briefly speed up, avoiding her gaze to try and look clueless.

"I need to go. Stay away from Alya, would you? I'm sure you'd recognize her anywhere. I'll see you later." She pats his arm before running off to go backstage. He looked in the direction she went, staring as her petite figure, white dress, sunflower hair clips, and all.

She walked towards the center, clad in a red long-sleeved silk dress falling to her knees. She lets her eyes close before they open, looking at the hall from left to right. She inhales the dry, musty smell of chairs and recycled air-conditioning. She settles the violin on her shoulder, and after a few notes from the pianist, her music fills the entire room.

The feelings were highly evident on her face. Introduction et Rondo Capriccioso in A minor, op. 28 by Camille Saint-Saens. He has fallen in love with the sound ever since he was a child.

The transition from being gentle to brusque reminded him of his steadfast childhood, then perhaps the sudden change of events in his life. He found himself appreciating it more than he did when he last heard it. Maybe because it came from her. If so, she shouldn't know just how much it was affecting him.

He was a pianist, far behind from practice. Maybe he has memorized its sound, but up until now, he never knew just how much it'd remind him of himself.

She pours her entire being into the sound she creates, and he imagines just for a second what it would feel like to play alongside her.

She finishes the piece, the crowd not hesitating to applaud. It said everything she couldn't, and he was in love, be it with her or her music.

<>

"That was so amazing," she said, fist-pumping with the air.

"You're like a child after their first time on a carousel." He occasionally kicked the gravel on the driveway.

"No, I wasn't like that after my first time on the carousel, but I was like this on my first time inside a concert hall. This woman with blonde hair who positively looked too much like you played her violin, and I was hyperactive for the rest of the day."

He wondered if that was his mother. If she was the one who inspired her to become who she was right now. To start a journey, not caring about those who loathed her, and not bothering of the shame and struggle because she was ready to face them off bravely every day. That was how his mother continued to live in the hearts of many.

"Hey, I told you I wanted some ice cream. Hey, hi. Earth to Adrien." She frowned at him when he finally found his senses.

"What's gotten your head up in the clouds?"

"Nothing." She smiled as he placed a hand into his pocket.

"Well, I still want that ice cream, so let's go!"

"I really hope Alya didn't find you. She's quite protective of me. I got my heart broken only once, and she's not taking another chance. You know what I mean." She picked the mint-flavored chocolate ice cream while he chose a milk-flavored one.

"Why milk? Of all the flavors, really?" She asked, just as the counter attendant scanned their items.

"What's with the mood?" They continued walking until they reached the park. She chuckled at his statement.

"I'm already tired, and we still have visitors coming over. Although I'll only need to attend to them, I'm expecting some of them to get drunk."

"What time are you supposed to be home?"

"They won't kill me if I was ever late for some minutes."

"Are you implying that you don't want to get home yet?"

"I'm not having some trouble at home if that's what you were thinking. My parents are the sweetest. I wouldn't trade them for the world. How 'bout you?" They both threw the sticks into the nearest trash bin.

"Opposite, but it's not like you think. Just a moody teenager with nothing else to do. Dad's not that attentive, what I mean. Mom's a sour subject."

"Oh, well, I hope you find it easy to confide in me." She tilted her head back to get a better view of the stars.

"You live really far away. You should convince them to move closer to the city. It's really beautiful, you know. The stars."

"It's quarter to nine, Marinette. Go home."

"Fine. Promise me that you'll see me on Monday."

"Because we didn't see each other this morning?"

"No, because you're my favorite," she gave an innocent smile before turning right at the intersection. She ran until she couldn't hold her laughter anymore. Maybe it was some sweet game they were both playing. He really was her favorite, so could you really blame her for flirting with him?

His eyes widened momentarily before chuckling to himself. Nice flirting.


	4. little details

She was still feeling a bit hyperactive because of what happened last Friday. It was nice being his friend. From what he got from Nino, her only guy friend, courtesy of having Alya as a girlfriend, Adrien was homeschooled up until he was fourteen, only getting into private school two years ago. They had never had a class together, and since, as previously mentioned, Alya sheltered Marinette from befriending any other guy, they just never got the chance to meet.

Monday would be when they'd receive their test results on their science module. Not that she was a big failure in academics, just that music was her priority most of the time, and her parents won't do anything about it ever since what happened.

Alya was the one lining up to get their day's meal, and she couldn't find the other girls, so she was left to sit on a bench until she was back.

He wasn't sure why he got them both a piece of éclair, but he wasn't thinking of regretting it. He was still holding his test paper from his previous class, something everyone was anxious to get. He got a 94/100, and he honestly couldn't get himself to leave it on his desk. For now, he was just focused on seeing her.

He turned the corner of their hallway and saw her sitting on a bench across the courtyard. He tried to surprise her by coming from behind, but that barely did anything. Maybe she saw him meters away.

"Did I uhm... promised you a pastry?"

"Really, you give a baker's daughter a pastry?" she said, stealing the bag from him.

"Where'd you get it from? I don't recognize the icon." She took a bit out of her éclair.

"A family cheese cafe on my way from Montmartre." She moaned at the sweetness of the cream cheese filling.

She saw the paper he was holding, immediately knowing that it was his grade on their science exam. She got it from him with ease, and he didn't seem to bother.

"Nice. Sadly, I'm not jealous because I don't really need to be good at science. I do my best, but music will always be more important to me." She finished her éclair, giving the wrapper to Adrien, who subconsciously threw it into the trash bin mere meters away from them.

"Are we hanging out today?" He tried not to slap himself. He has been clingy on her ever since they've met that she wasn't the only one warning him about Alya anymore.

"Oh, Alya's taking me out with the girls, and I have to practice for my next concert. Sadly, I don't think I can invite you, but I'll make sure you get all the details."

She didn't mind his clinginess because he knows to be there when she's alone.  
"I've got something interesting to tell you."

Yesterday, a freshman tried to get her attention by adding salt to her green tea hazelnut drink, which tasted beyond disgusting.

She left her seat to complain about her drink, and when she got back, her violin was missing. She asked some other customers if, by any chance, they've seen what happened. Thankfully, someone was kind enough to tell her about a girl briefly seating on her seat before leaving brusquely.

She took her new drink before going outside to investigate. She saw the cherry-colored case of her violin held by a girl who was obviously in a hurry. She thought she lost her, but apparently, the girl was too much of a nervous wreck that she slipped on a street ramp.

She expected him to be all ears. "Someone asked me to become their mentor. How we got there is a story for another time, but she's seen me perform, and when she discovered that I'm a senior at the same school as hers, she just had to ask me to become her mentor."

He stared at her with wonder in his eyes. "I'll do my best even if I'm not ready. I'll teach her everything that I know, and hopefully, she'll be better than me someday." She stood up, enjoying the moment before looking back at him.

He couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "You're really passionate about that."

"Why wouldn't I? It's an opportunity for everyone. It's all part of the journey, and if I do fail on being a mentor, I'm not afraid to shame myself. It's as simple as that."

He could've stayed lost staring in her eyes, if not for the brunette who diverted his attention. He hadn't been formally introduced to Alya, making him wonder if those silly myths about her were true. He was sure about one thing, though, she's protective, and you don't really know what she's capable of doing.

"Do you really know what would happen if Alya knew we were friends?" She turned her head to see her friend, who she was momentarily forgotten about, walking towards them while giggling to whatever Nino had said.

He concluded that, apparently, that gave her chills. Well, after Alya brutally beat up her ex-crush and accepted a week of suspension, why wouldn't she be?

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, and you don't want to know." After being smacked repeatedly everywhere, he found himself far away from her again.


	5. your comfort

There was a force that brought his fingers to touch the piano. It started like any other rendition of Debussy's Clair De Lune, but this one just slowly got to him. He felt his heart go heavy as his lips began to quiver. Soon, the tears began rolling down his cheeks.

He made sure he played gently, just the way his mother taught him to. It reminded him of her soothing touch whenever she'd bring him back to sleep, or the fight she had with his father just before the accident. Or maybe the many times he wanted to give up and join her in paradise, but she'd always remind him to learn to wait.

By the time the song ended, his jaw hurt from clenching. He swallowed the lump in his throat before gently resting his head on the keys.

The door opened, bringing him back to Earth.

The blinds were closed, and no lights were ever opened, which made the room brighter by a bit. The tears were already dry, but his eyes stayed shut.

"What are you doing here?" Her familiar voice finally made him sit up and take a deep breath.

"Your eyes are puffy. Why were you crying?" She opened the middle light and a fan before settling her bag beside a bookshelf.

"Can you move," she said gently, earning a 'huh' from him.

"No, I don't know how to play the piano, but I guess you do." She looked at the keys before hugging herself and sighing.

He began playing again, having uttered not a single word. Kreisler's Liebesleid, arr. Rachmaninoff was one of those pieces which cheered him up more than it let him down. Maybe because of its beauty and gentleness, or maybe he's just gotten used to sorrow.

The music made her fall in love, and whether she meant it or not, her head fell on his shoulder, carefully watching his fingers as they hit the keys. These pieces his heart had memorized made the world more comforting than it really is.

As the song settled to an end, he gave a small smile, satisfied by her company and the music he produced.

"That was amazing. I'd asked you to be my accompanist, but it looks like the piano makes it really painful for you." She played with her hands on her lap.

"How'd you know?"

"Music is meant to be the one to tell all those things you can't. Whether you like it or not, it will unveil all your happiness and your pains." She gently cupped his face and smiled at him.

"Ah, I'm skipping practice today." She stood up, switching off whatever there was to switch off before opening the door once again.

"Huh, why?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm just not in the mood to."

It was the truth, though. She ran off to the bathroom, taking out all the medicines prescribed for her to take. She fell to the floor, hugging her legs and hating herself. She just had to be the unlucky one, hadn't she?

'It all fell down. It all fell down.'


	6. your company

Why her violin? Of all things! It had nothing to do with the rivalry between them. Maybe she should've seen it coming because Lila knew perfect ways to take irrelevant revenge on someone. If she fought against Lila, she was sure to lose. She was that good.

Lila wasn't the one to create a scene or even let others think she didn't like Marinette, so when Marinette accidentally tripped on thin air, causing her friend to spill her coffee on Lila, she knew she wouldn't get the same treatment her friend did.

So, there she was, staring at the bundles of orange leaves, slowly drinking the milk she had bought from a vending machine. She settled the carton on the dirt before standing up on the swing she had been sitting on, putting on a little momentum.

He was finally done with his fencing, wanting nothing more than to be back in his room, even if it was desolate. He passed by their family bakery, intrigued by the icon, he remembered Marinette mentioning something about designing it. He turned to the empty park, seeing a sole figure enjoy the tranquility.

He was finally able to make out who it was, subconsciously getting closer until he could see the utter confusion in her eyes.

"Hi... You're still in uniform. I mean, that's perfectly reasonable since you live far from here. I mean, why haven't you gone home yet? Classes ended like six hours ago."

"Ah. I had other things to do. Where's everybody? I've never imagined this park going empty," He sat on the swing beside her, his messenger bag resting on the soil.

"It's dinner, or in other words, 'time to go home' hour."

"Right."

It took her a moment but decided anyways to tell him about what happened. "Would you believe me if I said Lila's a total bitch?"

"Pretty much. I mean, most of the things she does, they're pretty set up."

"She cut the strings on my violin, which left me pretty upset." Her tone gave away just how much it was affecting her. "I just had to trip in front of her." She dusted off the dirt on the swing before sitting on it again.

"Should I even be upset? I mean, I could just fix them, but now I missed two days of practice, and I have a concert coming up. I-" She trailed off, taking a well-needed deep breath.

"I'm pissed," was his cue to wrap his arms around her. She stiffened a bit before leaning back, shoulders relaxed, and head resting on his neck.

All she could think of was 'wow'.

It lasted more than a minute, neither saying anything. It was intimate, and she liked it.

She shook him off eventually, though, bending to grab the abandoned milk carton.

"Thanks for that. If you can, my parents have some macarons in need of testing. Up to it?"

"Why not?" He grabbed his messenger bag, racing her to the bakery.


	7. make me smile

It took her up past midnight to fix the strings. She wasn't a professional and that fact really annoyed her. When they entered the bakery, she had completely forgotten why she had hidden her friendship with Adrien in the first place. Her parents were lavish teasers, and it was the first time she had brought home a boy.

To say the least, it was classic. He got interviewed by her dad. Her mom said a lot of things to her in private, including something about whitening her bikini area. She couldn't imagine where this had all gone wrong.

All the awkwardness was cut short thanks to a phone call from his side, but the immediate slump of his shoulders made her realize that it wasn't at all that good.

His fencing instructor was forced to report the little mistakes he created while training. He knew he had been lax about fencing, so he willingly extended three more hours to catch up today, but apparently, nothing's ever enough for his father.

Marinette rolled in her bed, reaching up to catch her phone ringing. There were four voicemails all from Alya. It rang again, this time being answered by her.

"Alya, why so early?" She rubbed her eyelids before sitting up and kicking the blanket, causing it to fall on the floor. As if she cared.

"Girl, no excuses, get dressed, you're treating me out."

"What, why?"

"Because you owe me an explanation."

She had no choice, though. Alya's a persistent woman. She'd rather get dressed now than being pulled out of the house in her pajamas. She'd die with how cold it was outside.

She wore a pair of leggings under a denim skirt falling just above her knees, and then a long-sleeved white silk shirt tucked in just right. She topped them off with an open trench coat, followed by a scarf before putting on some mascara and blush. She grabbed her pearl earrings and a pair of two-inch heels. She took her personalized shoulder bag before kissing her parents and taking a croissant from the tray on the table.

She met her on the bus, immediately getting scared off by Alya after their hug.

"I don't need an explanation on why you're friends with Adrien because I get it, you're not lesbian, but I do need an answer for why you didn't tell me."

"Like he'll live after I do," she said, leaning away from Alya. "He's nothing like those other guys."

"I know that, girl. He's best friends with Nino. I'm sure he'll never be like those dicks.

"So that's the only reason?" They left the bus, walking not so far to reach the mall.

"Yes. Do I still need to treat you out?"

"Yes, because we're already here," she said, pulling her off to the direction of the entrance. "You're gonna love their new decor. " They walked to the opposite entrance.

There, at the center, was the fountain decorated surrounded by mannequins in various poses, and white flamingos with gold-trimmings since Dior was the one behind it.

She was immediately intrigued by the designs, leaving her mouth wide open. Not everyone knew how to appreciate the decor. It was pretty crowded, lucky children getting a chance to dip their hands in the water.

"Close your mouth, girl. We're taking a picture." Alya loved the fashion designer because their photos would always end up cute.

Soon, they sat at their favorite cafe to order the newest best-seller: Strawberry mint-flavored crème bavarois topped with a chocolate dome, which melted in their mouths, bringing them utter delight.

"You don't know how much I love spending time with you." She took a sip of her Strawberry Jasmine Iced Green Tea. Her hand jerked at a shock, which caused her to drop a few shopping bags, making Alya smile sadly.

They went home after ordering lunch and playing a few games at the activity center.

In the middle of practice, she began to feel a little dizzy. She went downstairs when she couldn't handle it anymore.

"Eat first before you take these. There's also some aspirin. Then we'll take your blood pressure afterward." Her mother handed her some French toast and a plate of medicines.

Her mother kissed her forehead as she closed her eyes, "You'll be alright, okay?"

That's a difficult fact to believe. She munched on the eggy toast, hoping that her performance tomorrow would turn out great.


	8. first concerto

There's a first time for everything, isn't there? She considered it her first time playing for the upper class. It scared her of what they could possibly think of her playing. Whether it was classy, finesse, reckless, colorful, monochromatic, they could destroy her career before it even started because who knew how far their connections were.

The audience was astonished then intrigued by her age. It wasn't a mystery how she got there. Her high school was prestigious, promoting dozens of talents a year. She always left her audiences with something to treasure.

It would also be her first time playing a concerto. She shook hands with the conductor, clad in a white dress with golden cherry blossom branches as the design.

Wieniawski Violin Concerto no. 2 in D minor, Op. 22 would be the last and most expensive performance of the day. The orchestra began to play, and she couldn't help but stare at the ceiling, filled with delicate art. There were potted plants beside the red curtains touching the floor, and the guests dressed in pure elegance.

She took a deep breath as she hit the first note, playing, and falling in love with the music. It was how she'd describe herself, making her express more of herself in the music. A little outgoing, yet perceiving delicacy.

She enjoyed the sound it made with the orchestra, reminding her of Disney princesses. She sped up, reaching the climax before the orchestra hit their own notes. As she came back, she played it gently, perfect for a lullaby.

Reaching the end, she smiled brightly at the composer, who offered her a hug. She bowed at her audience, who loudly clapped the second she ended. She shook hands with the closest cello player, before exiting the stage. She was drenched in sweat after playing for so long, shivering when she entered the hall, surprised by its coldness.

A few more musicians congratulated her as they passed by. By then, she felt dizzy and numb to her feet.

She closed her eyes to try and focus, only that her chest began to ache. She opened her sling bag hoping to find her phone, but her legs gave out without a warning, leaving her staring at the ceiling with blurry eyes, frozen on the hardwood floor. A faint call of her name was the last thing she heard before she entered utter darkness.

<>

Adrien busied himself reading a book from his father's collection. It was already late afternoon. He wasn't expecting a call, especially from an unknown number.

"Agreste. Yes, it's Alya. Get dressed. Marinette's in the hospital. APHP."

Upon the mention of her name in the hospital, he pumped out of bed, scurrying to get dressed.

"Gorilla, I need a ride to APHP." He didn't mean to shout, but he was in a fret.

"Adrien, where are you going? His father's assistant asked with a hint of worry upon the mention of the hospital.

"A-a fri-friend's in the hospital." He stuttered, going for the door.

"Go ahead. If you wish, I'll free your schedule for tomorrow."

He gave a swift nod before entering the car.

They arrived no sooner than fifteen minutes. He was still a mess, stuttering Marinette's name at the concierge.

He didn't like hospitals ever since he lost the one who would comfort him whenever they had to visit. Ever since he saw his mother bleeding to death, that's why he'd flip out at the mere mention of them. Thankfully, Nino had already been waiting in the lobby.

"Dude, calm down. She's fine."

"Sorry. I- I'm always like this when someone ends up in the hospital." He tried looking somewhere else, fumbling with his hands, which Nino noticed shortly.

"Yeah. Let's go."

"God, I hate hospitals." He whined once they were in the elevator.

"I've got some gum if you want. Also, stop tapping your foot. I can't stand it."

They entered the room, seeing a few guests occupying the other half of the room.

"Hi. You came. Woah, did something happen?"

Marinette sat on the side of the bed. She was surprised to see him as a nervous wreck before frowning at his appearance.

"Oh, you're one of those people who panicked after I got hospitalized. Yeah, yeah. You're all worried for nothing, you know?" She mumbled the last part, bitterly smiling at no one.

"Anyways, Adrien, I've got macarons if you want some." Sabine cheerily offered to cut the tension.

"Where's Mr. Dupain?" He took a bite out of the macaron, finally calming his nerves.

"He went ahead to manage the bakery."

He looked at the person who hadn't said a word then raised an eyebrow when he made eye contact.

"You're not wrong, Agreste. I'm feisty, but you're nice, so you won't receive anything bad from me."

"Yeah," he chuckled, a bit relieved.

"When did they say you were going to be released?" He said, turning back to look at the bluenette.

"They're still doing some tests, but you shouldn't really worry about it. I wanted to celebrate after that big performance, but now you're all depressed. Not even some ramen or anything."

"Why didn't you say so, we'll definitely order some. What else do you want, Marinette?" Alya said enthusiastically.

"And go invite the nurses at the station. I'll have Tom bring some pastries." Her mom said. Soon, it felt like it was her birthday. They ordered Chinese and enjoyed the night, not worrying about the fact that they were in a hospital.


	9. this never happened

Marinette sat upright as she continued designing on her sketchpad. Clarice, her head nurse, came in after knocking at the door.

"I loved the party here yesterday. Now, clear the desk. I'll set up your new regimen then we can get you ready for your ECG."

Suddenly, she felt a crushing pain in her chest, which quickly spread to her jaw and torso. Her vision slowly blurred as she panicked to call for Clarice, feeling cold yet profusely sweating.

"I need a doctor, page Dr. Beaulieu." She called for the other nurses, fearing the worst.

She placed the oxygen mask on her face as another nurse started an IV line. Her heart rate rose to 170 beats as they rushed her to the OR.

<>

His schedule was free, a once in a blue moon happening. That earned Natalie a hug from him right after he had woken up to get ready.

He started with some homework before ordering two servings of fruit and vegetable salad to take to the hospital with him.

He wasn't much of a mess this time. It just gave him chills entering the lobby. He asked the hospital concierge for her room number, unable to remember what it was.

It freaked him out, seeing the room completely empty as if the occupant had already died.

"The patient there's still in surgery then she'll be transferred to the ICU afterward."

"Do you know what happened?"

"I'm sorry. I'm not the one in charge of her case."

"Do you know when I can visit?"

"Maybe a few hours from now or tomorrow."

"Okay, thanks."

He ate his serving of the salad at the hospital cafeteria, unable to process how everything's going so fast. He didn't want to think that she was sick, much less, that he's about to lose her.

<>

She stirred from her sleep, noticing the oxygen mask on her face. Someone was standing beside her smiling as she removed the mask to acknowledge them.

"Good afternoon."

"I'm sorry. I don't remember what happened." Her doctor frowned at her reaction. She was a bit scared since her chest still felt painful, and various types of machines were hooked up to her.

"You had a heart attack. You've been showing signs of arrhythmia for the past two days. That was what we needed to confirm with the ECG, so I'm sorry you had to go through that before we could do anything, but don't worry, we took care of everything. Also, welcome to the CCU, nurse Clarice will be here any minute." Her doctor said with her gentle and light voice.

"Your parents are outside. I'll call them now." She bid farewell as her mother rushed beside her, clasping their hands together as she had to refrain from hugs after the surgery.

<>

It was devastating-yet made no difference to their friendship-when Alya found out that she was sick. She refrained from researching since the internet was only being negative about it.

She found it useless to worry Alya, so she told her only a part of the situation,

"The doctors found something abnormal, so they're keeping me here longer than I thought." She pulled her legs closer to her chest.

"For how long, exactly?" Alya looked around her room, fascinated yet terrified by the number of machines connected to her best friend.

"Hopefully, a week from now."

Alya would never know about the CABG, something she'll inevitably look up on the interest.

"Don't do anything stupid, girl. I don't like the thought of long hospital stays.

"Can you ask Maman to bring my pajamas?"

"Sure thing. What would you like for dinner tonight?"

"Sushi. Folic acid." Clarice came in with her med cart, "I'll just be changing this IV bag."

"I wish I could give you something, Clarice. Something handmade."

"That'll be nice, dear. I'd love that. Oh, and we haven't set up your new regimen. I'll just come back to fix that." She closed the door upon getting out.

"So, sushi?"

"Shrimp and salmon." Alya laughed at the fact that her best friend wouldn't try any other kind.

They talked more after ordering dinner before Alya had to go home since it was a class day tomorrow.


	10. belated save the date

He didn't return to visit that day knowing he wouldn't be able to handle seeing her in the ICU, fearing that she might be on life support. He was obviously overthinking things because why wouldn't he? She underwent surgery for fainting due to exhaustion. Things won't add up. He couldn't ask the internet, which would only sum up his negative assumptions after asking the wrong questions.

All he wanted was to see her again, maybe bring him to a frozen lake she found to skate on. He only noticed then how hot he felt, as he lay on his stomach, watching a finger subconsciously tap on the bed.

He stood up to grab a cooling get sheet from one of his drawers. He decided to text Alya, if she visited and knew a few things that could put his mind to rest.

Do you have any updates on Marinette? I'm kinda restless and worried. 21:49

21:52 They transferred her to the CCU. Her heart didn't stop, so don't worry.

He thought of asking if she knew anything about the surgery, but if she didn't, it would spark something between the two like why she didn't tell her about such a huge thing. He didn't want to risk that.

Do you know why? 21:57

22:00 The doctors noticed a heart abnormality.

22:01 I know it's scary, but she's a strong girl, and we're there for her.

22:03 She'll be out in a week, so don't worry.

Thanks, Alya. Good night. 22:03

He went downstairs to reach the kitchen. It was dark, save for a few dimmed lights. He needed a drink. He hated himself for being the one to overthink. He thought maybe it was because his father would scold him ruthlessly because his life wasn't impeccable enough. He tended to try viewing all sorts of possible scenarios.

<>

They allowed her to leave for just one day, since her heart rate's back to normal and that it's her 17th birthday. She woke up early, with at least five nurses greeting her. After all, it was her sixth year fighting Friedreich's Ataxia. Clarice gave her real pearl earrings, refusing to leave until she accepted and wore them.

She had to refrain from getting excited and doing too much for the next six weeks, but nothing she wasn't used to, considering that it was her third surgery as a patient with an incurable genetic condition.

She wore a plain white spaghetti strap cold shoulder long-sleeved chiffon blouse paired with a pair of light denim skinny jeans and two-inched beige heels. She tied her hair into a ponytail, having cut it short yesterday, allowing some waves to recoil naturally. She had her self-made light peach handbag together with a personalized charm bracelet. She didn't apply makeup since she couldn't find a nice color pallet to go with the look.

Now, she waited patiently at the park for their school day to end, ready to surprise Adrien and hang out with him. Just as planned, before he turned the corner of the park, she jumped out of the pillar she was hiding in.

"You're out."

"Just for one day since it's my birthday!" She cheered before holding his hand with both of hers.

"It's your birthday." He repeated with his mouth a little agape.

"Yeah. So, you're gonna hang out with me."

"And you cut your hair. It looks good on you." He noticed the curls gathered behind her.

"Thanks." She played with her ponytail upon the mention of her hair.

This was what he wanted, to see her out and about, being the free-willed girl who hung out with him over the past month since he'd met her. She just wanted to forget the things that happened during the past few days.

He didn't worry much about his father, who would be out of town for two weeks, so would it really hurt the household if he didn't come home so early?

"So, where to?

"Well, first, you're getting changed." She pulled him off to the direction of her house.

"You have male clothes?"

"Yeah. I made them." She pulled him up the stairs to their living room where her mother was.

"Stay here. I'll go pick out some clothes."

"Afternoon, Mrs. Cheng." Sabine dished out the muffins from the mold, serving them to Adrien.

"C'mon, dear. Try them out." He made his way to the kitchen counter. "Wow." His taste buds partied at the taste of blueberry and melted chocolate.

"Hmm... Maman's muffins. Can I have one?" She'd already taken a bit before her mother could say anything further.

"Try these on. I'm sure they're your size. I mean, there's not much of a difference between you and Nino in size, and I'm a fashion designer. I know your measurements in one look." His laugh made her blush a little.

He wore the white cotton hoodie she gave over their uniform shirt before wearing the dark denim jacket. He changed into the pair of jeans he had packed in his bag just in case.

"It looks nice on you. Now, c'mon!"

"Bye, Maman. We'll be back by nine, don't worry!" They raced to the metro station, relieved at the few people riding the metro.

"You know, I had to convince everyone that this isn't a date."

"You are a seventeen-year-old hanging out with a guy." He tried ignoring the pain it brought him.

"It's just that I wouldn't miss spending this day with you." They both saw the sparkles in each other's eyes just before their station was announced.


	11. feeling euphoric

They detrained, and she held his hand, not saying anything about it. His heart trembled as he stared at their joined hands. They walked the short distance to Beaugrenelle together.

'Take my hands now. You are the cause of my euphoria.'

"So, what exactly are we planning on doing?"

"We've got four hours to enjoy this day, so I suggest we start shopping." She pulled him into the H&M store. "I have an idea. Let's pick clothes for each other. If I liked what you picked, you win, and vice versa. I'll meet you back here." Yes, he was the son of a wealthy fashion designer, but he was also human. He'd certainly get lost in an H&M store.

Ignore that. He has a job to do. She trusted him to find clothes that would look good-beautiful-on her. He found the women's wear section with ease, considering its position in front of everything else.

He picked a navy-blue ribbon strap cotton straight dress, then a cream beige knee-length trench coat. He picked out another pair consisting of a white chiffon spaghetti strap shirt and a custard swing skirt falling mid-thigh.

He was set and done. They'd sure shop for more looks later. As he was returning to their spot, he saw her looking at a beautiful fuchsia pink cold shoulder dress decorated with sunflowers. She didn't seem to notice him as she was purely intrigued by its design, so he snuck up on her, partially for revenge. "You should pick that up instead of just admiring it. I'm sure I'd look good on you."

At first, she thought it was just another salesman complimenting her. She pouted her lips upon facing, but then her eyes fell on his full basket, lips slightly parting in surprise.

She momentarily thought the clothes lacked pattern, but after glancing at the basket containing only two shirts, she felt embarrassed.

"No, no, no, no! You're done already. How were you so quick?!"

He took the dress from her, putting it on his basket. "It's really fine. I'll help you pick out my clothes." She stared at him as he walked away from her. Her vision played with her as the light shone on him. She had trouble picking up her basket but was able to catch up quickly, heading to the men's wear section.

"So, I win?"

"Technically, it's unfair, but since you're helping me pick out your clothes, I guess, yeah."

She discarded the shirts with a sigh, slightly folding before leaving it on the nearest rack. She hung those that came with a hanger.

"I'm a fashion designer who doesn't know how to dress a man."

"But this looks nice. Maybe it needs some pattern, which we could fix with a jacket." He took the cream beige soft knitted fleece mock neck long-sleeved t-shirt from the rack, then went to grab a black winter coat with a faux fur collar.

"And a scarf." She grabbed the baby blue scarf from a nearby mannequin, wrapping it around his neck.

He went into the fitting room to try out the outfit.

"It looks nice on you." She placed with her lips as he posed in front of the mirror. She wondered if he really was a model.

"It's just November."

"We live in Paris. It's cold starting in September."

"Maybe you should go try that fuchsia dress now. To make sure it looks perfect on you." He took the dress from the basket, handing it to her.

"Why not?" Taking off her clothes, she saw the gauze on her chest, which made her sit abruptly. She came out with her hair loose, falling on her shoulders.

"I knew it was perfect."

They returned to their normal clothes after trying out everything. She loved the minimalism of the outfits he chose.

Right before paying, she grabbed the navy-blue blouson jacket left sitting on a rack, and a pair of khaki-colored sneakers, which reminded him to get a pair of sandals.

"I forgot to get you some sandals."

"Not too high." She yelled softly at the direction he went. She couldn't handle two-inch heels, much less, anything higher.

He came back with gray-green flat sandals with a ribbon as the adjustable strap.

"You really are fashionable. It takes me hours to choose a pair and you seem to just grab something that I immediately loved." It fitted her perfectly.

They finally paid for the clothes. She only noticed then how exhausted she was. They went to the supermarket to grab some snacks.

"Maybe we should just grab dinner." He stared at the fridge, unable to decide on which drink to buy.

"Just buy another Minute Maid." Her shoulders slumped, giving up on opening the bottle.

"Can you open it?" He did after settling with the same flavor as hers. Her hands felt stiff again, causing her to drop the bottle.

"I'm madly clumsy." She lied as he chuckled, grabbing the bottle, and opening it for her.

"So, dinner?"

She ordered crab fried rice with chicken breast and citrus broth. He ordered shrimp and vegetable fried noodles with an egg on top. She was glad the food court wasn't so full, and there was a seat near the food stall.

They finished their food quickly, checking the time, which was only seven.

"Let's watch a movie. It's still early."

They watched The Gentlemen, which was recommended by his father's assistant. It was more than amazing. Plot twists here and there only intensified the thrill.

As usual, he miscalculated the time, getting out at exactly nine, but she didn't care.

They had fun. Just before they got to the hospital, she pulled him aside, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you," with that, she was safely in her room again, while he was unable to remove his hand on his cheek.

"So, it was a date." Clarice had been waiting inside her room, surprising her once she entered.

"More of, the best day of my life." She couldn't help but smile as she fell on the bed, screaming at her pillow.


	12. hard knock reality

She was finally going home. In total, she spent twelve days at the hospital, only a bit longer than her previous stay. Having that heart attack scared the hell out of her and only proved that she didn't have much time left.

Her mother cheered her up by claiming to have filled the kitchen with pastry goods, and all other sorts, so she eagerly sat on the wheelchair her papa pushed out of the hospital until they reached the automatic doors. As they walked to the van, her legs felt painful, and she began to quiver, eventually falling because of the pain.

Her papa rushed to carry her to the ER, where she ultimately fell asleep.

"Neurogenic Atrophy. I am hoping that after a few physical therapy sessions, you'd be back on your feet like before. Worst case scenario, you become limited to a wheelchair if you're not able to recover." Her neurologist told her after the MRI.

She hugged her mother, who came beside her. "Don't worry, Mama. We'll be strong. We'll fight through this, just like always." The tears began to flow as her parents reached to hug her. In truth, she wanted to die. If the result would only be her death, why not do it now?

Why put her and her entire family in more pain? They would understand. Oh, what was she thinking?

The rest of the day, she stayed at the rehab wing with her physical therapist. They electrocuted in low volts, the entire time she didn't speak. They stopped when she was finally able to drag herself across the bars and she smiled for the first time since that morning.

She didn't have to stay at the hospital, but they required her to use the wheelchair as much as possible, which she absolutely loathed. Her first day back at school and her classmates threw a party for one whole period.

She was the last to go out of the room when lunch came to hide her troubled walking. Alya was there holding her the entire time as they slowly walked to a cafeteria table, collapsing once she finally reached the chair. They sat on a lonely table at the back of the cafeteria near the door. She had already gone through it before, but this time, she has Alya.

Heading to the music room, she fell once at the courtyard. Adrien noticed this as he went down the stairs. He almost missed a step, just staring at her having trouble standing up until Alya came to her rescue.

Kira, the young girl she had set to teach, trembled in worry for her mentor.

"Marinette, your friends told me that you were hospitalized for so long. What happened?" She left her violin on the floor as she finished toning it. Marinette knew to tell her. She made it a new mindset to open-up to those who she knows will be there for her, fighting alongside her.

"I have a medical condition. It costs me my muscle function and coordination. It basically destroys my nervous system, I guess. It also affects my heart, causing it to occasionally stop." Kira's eyes widened upon hearing what she said, to which she only chuckled.

"You haven't told me what it is."

"It's Friedreich's Ataxia. It's a really rare disease. I just had to be the unlucky one to have it."

"Cheer up, Maestro. You're strong. You're gonna get through this." Kira was on the verge of tears by now.

"Don't cry, Kira. If this cheers you up, go grab that black case."

Her head turned around to notice the black violin case sitting near the door. She got up from the chair she had been sitting on to fetch the black case. Its outer was made on thick authentic leather. The black velvet inside made it addictive soft to the touch. Just then, she noticed the fresh-looking baroque violin, covering her mouth upon seeing the signature of Isaac Stern. She looked back-and-forth from the violin to her. Her tears began flowing out of joy. She didn't even know if it was a gift or anything. Staring at the beauty gave her enough bliss.

"Think of it as an early Christmas present, and don't think of rejecting it." She jumped to hug her maestro.

As the day neared to an end, she leaned on the ledge of the second floor.

"Aren't you going home?" He was still mere meters away from her.

She sat on the floor with her legs pulled near her chest, so he sat there beside her.

"I'm just tired," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. He hesitantly looked at her, tucking the bangs that fell on her face behind her ear.

It scared him, whatever was happening to her. How she was managing to hide it and continue with her blissful life. How does he let her know that he's there? That he'll be there whether she decides to let him in or not because she needs to know. She needs to know that she's not alone.


	13. prismatic smiles

It took her two more weeks before she can finally be active on her own without severely worrying anyone. Such a nice way to cheat on death.

December had arrived, causing the temperatures to drop beyond freezing, but she had plans today, and nothing would be there to stop her.

She had already gotten Adrien's number, as their friendship blossomed into a tinge of love. Today, she was taking him to the ice rink under the Eiffel tower, so they met at the metro station near her house.

He was tired from the night before. His father required him to attend and mingle at the golden jubilee of the company. It was the first time he's seen the house full and busy since his seventh birthday, yet the entire night, he didn't spot his father, unsure if the man was even there.

He, unfortunately, caught up with nosy clients and relatives, who would ask about his plans in life, since it was, after all, the fiftieth anniversary since the company's establishment. They emphasized how the second generation would expand it, and all, which by the end of the day, made him so glad to be back at the solitude of his room. He found the same solitude once again by burying his forehead on the crook of her neck, tickling her with his hair. Soon, he had fallen asleep, breathing ever so slightly. She only shook him awake once they arrived at their station.

"You know, we can always grab a coffee."

"I'm not that tired."

"It's just ten in the morning. Never too late to have a coffee."

They stepped inside the peaceful coffee shop, the warmth and aroma charming him. She ordered a hot London fog tea latte for her, then and a double shot café noisette for him. He got intrigued, watching her blow on the hot drink.

"When was the last time you had a haircut?" She asked after noticing how his hair covers the entirety of his forehead whenever he lowers his head.

"No one asks me about it. Don't you like it?" In a way, he used it to hide his embarrassment, or when he wants solitude for himself.

"No, I like it. It's really stylish. It's just that it hides most of your face sometimes."

"I don't mind it, and Natalie says people like blondes with long hair. Not too long, though."

"I understand. Are you close to finishing your drink?"

"There's still some left. I'll just bring it out."

They crossed the Pont d'lena, staring at the iconic tower in front of them. He finished his coffee on the way and soon sat, tying their skates.

"You sure about this?"

"Well, I'm confident I won't fall, and you?" He pulled her up, and she slightly slid upon entering the ice rink before racing him to the edge along with the few others enjoying the recreation. Each time she'd make eye contact with him, he felt flustered. She spun around like a real skater as if to show off. He, on the other hand, managed to trip on a little girl. Thankfully, she was there to catch him. They enjoyed the amount of momentum they were creating.

She soon grew excessively tired, which was sort of part of her plan. She pulled him to the side, pulling out an object simply wrapped in a soft fabric. He observed with pure curiosity in his eyes. She opened it to reveal a black signet ring, embedded with emeralds forming a paw print.

"I know it's early, but Merry Christmas." He didn't know what came to him, but he hugged her relentlessly, closing his eyes to savor the moment.

She raced him up the stairs of Palais de Chaillot, eventually sitting on one of the steps. She hadn't noticed it at first until a beautiful flake landed on one of her shoes. She looked up at awe as more snowflakes gently hit the surface.

"Snow!" She raised an arm, spinning around in delight. She couldn't help but feel like a child as she looked back at him, his hands in his pockets, but his smile mirroring hers. I made it. I got to see it snow.


	14. broken hearts

She had been glad to hear about the upcoming Christmas ball, immediately accepting the chance to perform. It has been a while since she practiced for a performance. Some days, someone else would join her for practice, which made her wonder what it would be like to play a duet with Adrien.

She paused from practicing upon hearing the alarm from her phone, reminding her to take her medications. She grabbed the purse and a bottle of water, heading to a nearby table. She got distracted by the number of pills she was required to take, unsure why she still loathed it after all these years.

Her arms felt stiff for a moment, glued on cupping the open purse. When the door suddenly opened, she accidentally dropped it, causing the blister packs to scatter. She quickly kneeled, covering the sight with her skirt. His voice confirmed who she thought he was, and that only added to her fear. She wasn't brave enough to explain everything she has been hiding from him yet.

"Just open the lights, please," she said to prevent him from helping her pick up what had fallen. She hastily stood up, bumping him on the shoulder as she rushed out to get to the bathroom. She wouldn't leave him confused, though, so she returned quickly after finishing her business.

"Sorry, I keep on intruding." He assumed that why she had run out was a private matter.

"Don't worry. So, why're you here?"

"No reason. I just knew where to find you."

He ran his fingers on the openly displayed piano keys, which eventually got her curious. Was it even a good idea? It could hurt him in any way, but perhaps, it was what he needed for his time to move once again.

"Did her... death cause you to stop playing the piano completely?" She bit her lower lip, waiting for his response.

"They told me I was a genius. I could play anything whenever." He sat on the piano bench, facing her.

"Every so often, I'd touch the piano, but I would always end up playing sad songs and crying all by myself."

"So, you'd mind?" She looked at the booklet before hesitantly giving it to him. It was entitled 'The Best of Chopin'. He flipped to where the bookmark was. Nocturne no. 20 in C# minor, arr. Nathan Milstein. One of his mother's greatest achievements and the girl he loved wanted to play it with him.

"Why would I?" They mutually smiled at each other as he placed the booklet on the music rack. He began, and as she joined him, she had brought him into another whirlwind of emotions, but this time, he felt ready to let go.

He could only imagine his mother hugging him as Marinette took his hand, pulling him away and running towards uncertainty and freedom. Before, it would only remind him of tragedy and add to his pain. Now, he felt okay. Like he's learned whatever lesson there was. He was in peace.

He momentarily looked at her, pouring herself into her playing, exposing all hidden feelings.

She was doing the opposite, completely lost. She couldn't let him go. She didn't have the heart to do so. She wanted to keep him, but he didn't deserve someone he'd only lose. Why did she have to go through this much pain and conflict? Why did they give her a blessing she couldn't keep?


	15. attention taken

"Girl, this is so amazing! I can't wait to see it on you!" Alya couldn't stop staring at the mannequin holding Marinette's dress for the night.

It was pink at first glance, then the closer you got, guaranteed the presence of a fading grey color. It had layers of chiffon, creating the effect of being pulled up at the waist by a certain clear mariposa. Pink Swarovski diamonds made the patterns on the v-neck glimmer with double spaghetti straps securing everything to the shoulders.

"Alya, you came for your gown." Marinette dug through the projects section of her closet, looking for the clear garment bag with Alya's name taped on it. Every time there was an event, Alya made sure to commission her to do her dress. They always came with explicit details, and every time, Marinette never failed to surprise Alya.

This time around, it was a white long-sleeved dress with golden outlines of tiger lilies carefully embroidered and a high slit on the grey silk tulle skirt falling to her ankles.

They still had to wait for two days before the Christmas ball. It would be held at an enticing ballroom thanks to the mayor himself.

When the day came, it had been a party before the ball even started. The girls all gathered in her room, getting ready for the met gala of their dreams. They all took turns on the makeup chair, turning around and giving each other compliments.

"Oh, Marinette. Give this to your date." Rose said with her high-pitched voice, giving her the boutonniere, to which she only furrowed her brows.

"But I don't have a date."

"But I don't have a date. For god's sake, Marinette. Adrien Agreste!" Alya waved her hands in annoyance.

"Girls, you're going to be late." With that, they each headed down the steep staircase.

Alya grabbed Marinette's corsage before she could, passing it to Alix, who was already at the door to get out.

"Okay, what was that for?"

"Your date has that covered." She patted her shoulder before carrying the multilayered skirt and heading out of the door.

"You set me up, didn't you?" She screamed at the now-closed door.

She turned around to see her mother holding her violin case, which she gave after hugging her gorgeous daughter.

"Oh, my moonbeam, make sure to have fun."

Marinette didn't like being late, it attracted too much attention, and to Alya, that was just what she needed.

So, when those huge glamorous doors opened for her, it was like any other dream. Some acquaintances smiled at her, while guests from left to right moved aside to let her through.

Thanks to Nino bumping his shoulder, he found himself turning around to see her standing there, more beautiful than ever.

She felt like a nervous wreck. He just had to be so handsome, and as expected, their eyes instantly met. Somehow, all these fancy dresses and flashy lights made her feel so different, so when she saw him in his ash grey suit, all she could do was nervously chuckle.

She noticed his tie and pocket square adapted the same shade of maroon, while she almost missed the Patek Philippe watch and the double-A cufflinks he was wearing. He was, beyond words, handsome.

"Hi." Her dark hair fell on her shoulders, purely complementing the beautiful dress she was wearing.

"You look amazing," he said, never breaking eye contact.

"I'd pay for you to say that to yourself."

"Father just wanted to make sure I have your full attention."

"Is that right?"

"Don't worry. You have my full attention, but next time, make sure to leave the smart-talking to me."

"Oh, I almost forgot." He chuckled before placing the corsage on her wrist.

"So, Alya did set me up?"

"Why? Is this night not worth spending with me?" Is he flirting with me?

"I'll go get us both a drink," he said, but he was totally stuck in place, just staring at those ocean blue eyes of hers.

"Are you going to get that drink, or would you rather stare at my face the entire evening?"

"Oh, I'll get that drink, princess. I'll be right back." Why am I flirting with her? Not that he had a problem with it. He kind of liked it, actually. He slowly walked away from her, and you wouldn't believe just how lovesick he was.


	16. counting stars

He actually forgot to get them a drink, too busy staring at the red velvet ring box. He wasn't proposing. It was just a Pandora charm his father had personally designed, his gift to her.

It had been years since Luka saw her, being that they parted ways when he started high school. Thankfully, he accepted Juleka's invite to be her date.

"So, you're enjoying it." Before she could respond, Luka joined one of their hands, while the other rested on her waist. She instinctively placed her other hand on his shoulder, joining him as they waltzed to the acoustic version of Andy Grammar's Good Example.

Adrien soon noticed them, curious to whom the man was. When he neared them, he tried not to interrupt and make everything more awkward. Good thing, the man paused their dancing, calmly looking Adrien in the eye.

"Here, you can have her back. Enjoy the night." He intuitively wrapped his arms around her petite waist, shocking her a bit. He momentarily looked around before settling his eyes on hers again.

"What were you looking for?"

He shook his head a bit, "Just tried distracting myself."

"It was just Luka. His Juleka's brother. Two years older than me. We've been friends around the same time I met Juleka."

"No. I'm not jealous, or am I?" He bit his inner cheek, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"I promised you my attention from the start of this evening. I don't break promises." She ran her hand through his gelled hair, loving how she messed it all up.

Right then and there, he fell in love all over again. His lips partially parted as his heart and stomach agreed to the luring thought in his head. Soon enough, his lips were on hers, waiting for how she would respond.

She did place a limit back then, but the heart wants what it wants, and there was no stopping that. She leaned further into the kiss, closing her eyes, and bringing him closer than he already was.

Their lips slowly separated, but the eye contact remained, completely ignoring the redness of both their cheeks. A remix of Taylor Swift's Love Story softly played in the background.

He placed a little space between them before pulling out the box from his pocket, giving it to her without saying anything. His cheeks were still burning, you know.

"I thought you were going to give me a drink, not a kiss nor a ring."

"It's not a ring. It's my gift to you." He slightly swayed, and a hand made its way behind his neck, playing with a few hair roots.

She opened the box, revealing the rose gold ladybug Pandora charm. She somewhat shook her head in delight, scoffing ever so slightly.

"Your mom suggested I get you a Pandora charm. My father personally designed that."

"It's beautiful." She inserted the charm into her Pandora bracelet.

"Not as good as this one," he said, showing off her father's ring.

"You've never taken it off?"

"Not once. It's hard to, you know?" She could only swoon.

Her phone vibrated in her clutch. She looked at the text from the party organizers before looking at the current performer on stage.

"I'm up next. Watch me, alright?" She pecked his left cheek, and as she walked away, he touched his cerise-colored cheek, thinking of all the reasons he'd always end up flustered around her.

It was a duet of an electric guitar and a violin, Alan Walker's Darkside. Everyone was rocking the dance floor, from simple to street dancing.

It was his first time hearing her play an electric violin, but it made no difference to when she would play a normal violin. Just like before, she played with much enthusiasm. In her head, she recalled their kiss and how much she wanted more of those. She was going to tell him the truth somehow because that's what you do when you love someone.

She gave a quick bow to those who clapped before hiding backstage. She pulled out her phone, scrolling the contacts for Alya's number.

Alya, can you go tell Adrien to go out to the lobby in a few minutes? Just tell him I'm waiting there. 17:23

17: 23 Sure, he'll be there.

She found Adrien looking around, presumably for Marinette. He was standing near the guys' table, so while she was at it, she snuck a kiss on Nino's cheek.

"Hey, pretty boy. Marinette wants you out in the lobby in a few minutes.

"Did she tell you why?"

"Really, Agreste? Since you're asking me, I bet she got you two a room."

<>

The hotel was near the bakery, which was near the park where she planned to hang with him. She removed the longer layer of her dress, replacing it with some jeans, and wearing a trench coat, and some gloves the entire time.

She rushed home to get a blanket and some ready pastries before fixing them up in the park and running back to fetch him.

"Sorry for being late. So, you ready to go"

"Where're you bringing me?" He wore his winter coat before wrapping a scarf around his neck.

"You'll see." She led him to the park, where a simple set up overlooked by the brightest stars are. She went ahead to sit, inviting him to follow.

"Now, look up." Stars were always brighter once winter started. He's seen some bright sky before, but nothing like this. There were so many stars, like a painting from the renaissance.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He was still into the moment, completely intrigued by the stars.

"I think stars have the most wonderful job. Truth is, I wish I were just one of them. They light up the dark road ahead so that you won't be afraid to continue your journey."

They lay down on the blanket, neither one breaking the silence. She raised an arm, reaching out to the stars before eventually letting it drop on her stomach. Some minutes later, she stood up before pulling him to his feet.

"Say, we haven't really danced. Care for one?"

She played Katie Sky's Monsters from Spotify on the highest volume possible. He placed his hands around her waist while hers were on his shoulders. He spun her around at the chorus. The entire park was their dance floor. He lifted her up, spinning her around in the air as the song came to an end.


	17. wrong note

After the ball marked the start of the Christmas holiday, of which he had begun to shun upon learning what his father had in store for him. He had been sent to London to review their upcoming spring/summer collection as if his opinion ever mattered.

When she found out, she was down for an entire week. She had planned to invite him to a getaway with her family, where she had hoped to tell him the painful truth. He'd hug her by the pool, maybe a kiss here and there. Oh, just how it goes in romantic movies, but that's not how life works!

He, on the other hand, couldn't stop daydreaming about her, so he composed all his thoughts into a song for the piano, while the rest of the world revolved.

Finally, four days after the New Year and they were back on their feet. A scarf here and a coat there was enough to keep them standing. The music room had the most efficient radiator, in their opinion. Unfortunately, two musicians had already claimed it as theirs, filling it with their delight-filled waves of laughter.

Their stories ranged from the embarrassment they went through thanks to family relatives who acted like they knew their nieces to fun getaways outside of Paris.

He knew just where she was. They were always the first ones there, owning it for the rest of the free period including their lunch break.

He opened the door before inevitably locking eyes with her. Their feelings for each other were still unclear, which proved uncanny to some of their friends, but they allowed the two to take their time. After all, there's the entire campus to make sure those two ended up together.

"Excuse me, but I'm still here." Kira was glad none of her friends had significant others, or else she might have been a single pea, unintentionally third wheeling.

"Mister pretty boy, may I ask what brings you here?

"Oh no, I know the answer." She mentally scolded herself, while the two remained oblivious to the epiphany she was having.

Kira hasn't spent much time with the two, which left her quite confused if there was really anything between the two, but she was clever, nonetheless, and a matchmaker of her own.

"I was just hoping if you'd like to hear something I composed."

"Of course. Go ahead." She was more than excited for him. It had been a while since he played, but each time he would touch the piano, he felt motivated and touched.

He sat on the piano bench with both the ladies eager to hear what he had in store. His slender fingers touched the keys, and suddenly, it was like Yiruma himself was playing a song solely meant to make you fall in love. It was what a child would describe as a 24-color pallet.

For a second, the thirteen-year-old violinist thought of meeting someone who would play just like that, or perhaps, more romantic. She wondered if there was a man out there willing to love her despite her quite obnoxious and uncanny attitude. She also wondered whether she'd have to look all over the world for him or if he was already right under her nose.

A loud thud brought her back to reality. Her breath hitched, and the floor spun for a moment. Marinette lay completely immobile in his arms, catching her only moments before she could hit the hard floor.

"Kira, call for help!" The boy's voice cracked as she struggled to reach for the door, while he felt the pulse on her neck, his heart skipping a beat when he felt none. He laid her on the floor, desperate to remember what he'd read about CRP. He had to control his breathing as he performed the first set of compressions, tears running fast down his cheeks to his shirt or the floor.

<>

He rested his head on her bed, reassured that she was safe by the beating near her. It was traumatizing, and he wondered what kind of curse this was. Why did it have to be him to see his mother rushed in the ER, bleeding to death? Why did it have to be him to give her compressions?

One look at the scene, the teacher Kira had called ran to get the AED and a first aid kit while calling another co-worker to call for an ambulance.

Nineteen minutes later, she was breathing again, but he, on the other hand, had begun to shake. It took a couple of minutes for him to stand up, only to collapse again when they took her away. He lowered his head as a teacher held him close, guiding him through the panic attack. Kira came closer to hug him, but his chest only hurt more with tears planning to flow nonstop.

She called his name causing him to raise his head, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes were so red, and his hair even messier than she's ever seen it.

She saw what looked like a heart monitor.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry."


	18. human nature

He tried distracting himself by looking at the sock pocket on the wall, while her eyes were fixed on her hands clenching on her lap. He thought he was done crying, but another round of tears proved him wrong.

"Why didn't you tell me? You didn't have the heart to?" He squeezed his arm, trying to deflect the pounding pain in his head. He looked up, only to see her reflection from a painting's glass cover.

"Alya knew. Why couldn't I?"

"Alya's different."

"So, what?! Didn't you trust me? Fine, some people might treat you differently after you tell them, but I'm not like that. Haven't you known me long enough? I don't understand." He couldn't keep himself from raising his voice. He thought he'd be okay with the secrets she kept, but instead, they left him hurt and more unstable, and he was tired of that happening in his life.

"I don't want- I don't want to be left in the dark. I don't want to get a call that- you're already dead. I don't-"

"Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I understand? Yeah. I'm sick. So, what?! You can't do anything about that." It was her turn to raise her voice. She was mad because he just had to act so selfishly, completely unable to understand that everything about this is hurting everyone.

"That's why I didn't tell. Truth is we're not supposed to be friends anymore, but I'm just so hard-headed." The tears began to fall as her sobs made him realize what he'd done. He was confused, but he wouldn't question because it might just damage their friendship more than it already is.

"That's why if you don't want any of these, just leave! The door's wide open!" She raised her arm to point at the door, frowning when he dared to lock his bloodshot eyes with hers.

"So, what if you get a call that I just died, you can't change any of that. Just face it and leave!" Her voice rose higher with every word that she said.

"Well, I don't, so get out! You're so selfish. You think that you're the only one in pain. Well, no! Alya, my parents, what do you think are they going through?" She leaned on the bed, trying her best to calm down. There was silence before he broke it to apologize.

"You're right. I should just leave," he said in a barely audible voice. He walked to the door, only to stare at it, unsure of what to do next.

"I get it. You're begging me to explain myself, but I can't, so just leave." She bit her lip before turning to her side. With that, he left.

He sat on one of the seats in the hallway, inhaling the obnoxious smell of alcohol. He pulled knees to his chest before resting his head on them.

When the tears stopped, she pushed the blanket off her legs. Her entire body felt heavy upon standing on the cold floor. She searched through her knapsack for the notebook. She stopped to look at the window displaying the gloomy weather.

It was nothing painful, just a mere shock that ran through her legs, but enough to bring her to the floor. She was startled for a moment, questioning even, until she realized her legs were keeping her from moving.

They felt sore, which only added to her confusion. She quivered, realizing how much she'd sweat. She grasped the side rails, putting an arm on the mattress for support. Only when she tried to lift herself, it felt like her legs lit on fire. She quickly fell, vaguely sitting on her heels. She hit her thighs in between sobs, but they did nothing.

"Stupid legs, stand up! You're supposed to do what I say! Stand up already! What are you waiting for?! Stand up!" She shook her head in defeat before letting out an earth-shattering scream.

"Stand up..." There's no point in begging any further, was there? She rested her back on the side of the bed. After a few minutes, she got the strength to drag herself to the nightstand, reaching for the red button.


	19. accustomed

Alya arrived to see the room empty, with the sheets fixed and suitcases closed. She stared at the empty bed, eventually deciding to occupy it before pulling out her phone to try and call her missing best friend.

It became an odd occurrence for Marinette to even leave the room. It was just better to stay in the comfort of your room than to be constantly reminded of her limitation if she ever decides to roam around.

Last time she checked, they'd dissembled the wheelchair and abandoned it in the closet, all on its own, so it low-key kind of worried her that she had no idea if they were even something going on, and her calls ending up in voicemail didn't help at all.

It was impossible to ignore the constant vibration of her daughter's bag as it sat on the chair beside her. Finally, the phone has gone to a temporary stop. She stood up, slightly smirking at the tendential quirk of her daughter's best friend.

Seventeen missed calls from one single person, that girl must be worried sick by now.

She vaguely looked through the glass door, lowering her head before breathing deeply. Her daughter helplessly sat on the floor, the waves of her hair covering her misery.

Alya stared at the ceiling, laying down on the bed with her legs still hanging on the side. She firmly decided not to worry anymore. They'd eventually return sometime later. She groaned as she pressed on the contact information of Mrs. Cheng. She hated sounding desperate.

"Alya." She lightly knocked on the door, getting the girl to sit up.

"I was about this desperate to try and call you too, Mrs. Cheng." She stood up to hug the older woman.

"So, where is she? I mean, I haven't seen her leave this room ever since what happened, and now she's gone without even texting me, and we all know I head here straight after school."

"I had a guess why my daughter had seventeen consistent calls from you. My guess was right. Now, are you coming or not?"

"Where?" She grabbed her purse, rushing to catch up with the woman who was now about to enter the elevator.

"It's a little bit of a painful sight, but it's something to get used too even if you don't want to," Sabine said as they stepped out of the elevator. Her choice of words worried Alya, but she couldn't blame her as a mother. It was hard, even for her.

They kept walking until they were mere feet away from a row of translucent glass panels. Rehab? Now thinking about it, she's never seen Marinette do therapy. She gazed through the glass door, fleetingly wide-eyed before flinching as the girl fell on the floor.

She held on one of the bars, running her other hand through her damp hair. She looked up at physical therapists, sending them her usual smile before accepting their help.

It took her a while to rebalance before she began to continue the rest of the course, quivering and exhausted. As they neared the end, they helped her with her back braces before assisting her to sit in the wheelchair.

She'd fallen a few times today, but the numbness and already electrifying pain made it unnoticeable. She ignored the possible bruises hiding under her sweatpants. After all, it was just another test of perseverance, along with everything else she's already gone through.

Sabine opened the door, bringing Alya back to reality. While she went ahead to assist her daughter, Alya hadn't entered at all, stuck staring at the laughing girl before her attention fell on her own reflection.

"You're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." Alya looked up from her laptop, eying the girl who just said that cliche quote as she stood by the counter, trying to kill time.

"Did you just quote Christopher Robin?"

"C'mon, I'll bet you. Most Winnie the Pooh quotes in one minute."

"That'd be unfair. You have the book with you all the time. Of course, you'd win."

"Well, I did learn how to quote smart."

"I'll... show you something." Alya followed the girl upstairs, sitting down on the chaise as the girl presented her diary to her.

"You want me to read your diary?"

"Yeah. Just this one." She pointed at the paragraph, written neatly with a pink glitter pen.

'Dear diary, the doctors told me that each time my heart hurts, it's slowly reaching its limit. That's the simplest way to say it. I don't want to worry anymore. I don't want to hurt more than I already am. Just let it beat, and don't let it give up so easily.'

She hugged the girl beside her, who had her face already buried in her hands. "It's so hard, Alya. How am I not going to give up?"

Alya tilted her head back at the memory before smiling to herself as she finally found herself pushing open the door. She briefly whispered a greeting as they hugged each other tightly. She wanted to make sure it was treasured.

"You can't stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes." - Winnie-the-Pooh


	20. fault lines

Adrien accepted the croissant and his coffee from the barista. The hospital cafeteria was beyond capacious, he noted. He stared at the very high ceiling before taking a sip out of his coffee, to which he scrunched his nose upon realizing that it's already gone cold. Maybe it was a signal to start moving along or at least be productive. Well, would you really expect something from a person like him, filled with utter regret and all?

Just like that, a middle-aged, brown-skinned woman decided to approach him, all the while wearing a faraway look before sending him a smile that deemed her approachable.

"I hope you don't mind." She gestured to the seat opposite his before occupying it, letting a slow silence assume between them.

"I've seen you before. Oh, right! Today's the fourth time in a row. Pardon me, but I just noticed. I have to say this, but the hospital cafeteria isn't a restaurant where you come and go. Plus, the food here's as bland as it can get. What else would your purpose be here?" She said interestingly, bringing him a slight perk to smile. And her comforting and sagacious display told a lot, making him assume she was a mother.

"I'm Nurse Clarice. I've overseen Ms. Dupain-Cheng's case ever since she was little. We've never formally met before today, but I've heard enough about you from her."

She let the silence settle between them before going straight to her point.

"Why don't you visit her? Ever since she's met you, you're the only one we've talked about, only last week, it seemed different. You were completely out of the conversations we had. I don't know. I don't have a daughter, but I do have a son. Did you reject her?" He slightly chokes on air before seeing her decent, patient look that only causes him to hide behind his hair.

"I... didn't reject her, ma'am, but I don't think she'd want anything to do with me," he said blandly, carefully, and honestly. Her expression quickly fell from disbelief into genuine curiosity.

"Why would you say that?"

"I was rude to her, selfish. I became a jerk."

"Everyone's a jerk at some point in their lives, and you're still young. Expect it to happen often. Look, I won't pry whatever happened between you two, but I hope you resolve it." She stood up from her seat, picking up a pile of folders he hadn't noticed she had with her before whispering,

"You don't know how much time she has left." That shook him, keeping him motionless for about a minute before turning around, only to see that she was already gone. He wanted to cry, break down into pieces impossible to fix, but no emotion appeared on his face instead.

He slowly sat down on the floor outside her room. The frosted door lite showed a blurry image of a lone girl, perhaps resting on her side, letting silence do its thing. He carelessly banged the back of his head on the wall, his anxiety making it harder to breathe each second. He wanted to cry, but his tears were nowhere there.

He released a loud sigh, pausing his rush to get down the hospital stairs. With too much adrenaline, it was pointless to use an elevator. It was a blur when he decided to finally let his guard down and bury his head between his knees. Long-awaited tears finally willingly accompanied his pained sobs.

He felt so alone. Gone was the greatest woman in his life, so was her greatest love. His fingers ran through his hair before pulling it as if it were a lever for comfort to spill out. Was the world too much of an imbecile to understand that he's already in so much pain? When would they have enough? When would he be enough?

<>

She liked the view from her window. It often brought a smile to her face. There was nothing else left to do. She sat up, grabbing her mother's attention ever so slightly. Her journal lay open, displaying a page with barely enough words written on it.

There was a knock at the door before two male doctors, one much older than the other, came in, followed by her father. His father had an enigmatic look on his face, while her mother stood up, acknowledging the two doctors with a respectful nod.

"I want to have the surgery," she said softly, staring at the bulletin board in front of her. It had all sorts of things pinned to it, from design sketches to polaroids of them together. It even had Christmas lights hanging off, courtesy of Nino running out of ideas on how to be a better friend during these difficult times. At least, he was trying. Don't get her started with him going MIA, which hurt, and often, made her angry.

The pillow Alya had been trying to balance on top of her head fell on her lap. Her face had a look of disbelief, otherwise, confusion.

"You can't be serious. They want you to sign a DNR, which even more sounds like they don't know what they're doing." She stood up to throw her empty ice cream cup before leaning on the desk a few meters opposite the bed.

"Alya, he's the head of the neurosurgery department. You can't really say that."

"I just don't like the sound of it." Her heart trembled as her shoulders fell. She looked like a child admitting she'd stolen something.

"With my life, it's their purpose to make it livable. I've had surgeries before, the only difference now is, like you said, they're asking me to sign a DNR, so there really isn't any difference, logically."

"If you look it up, it's the gold-standard treatment for my case. Even if I do have a say here, saying no would only make my life more miserable."

"I already can't play the violin." She looked at the case peacefully leaning on the wall, its cherry red color, and a few Jagged Stone stickers.

"Promise me you won't give up." She knew exactly what she meant.

"I'll never. You know me."

She's been good, hasn't she? She's been good.


	21. fireflies flight

She couldn't help but focus on the operating lights above her. She would soon be ventilated and put on bypass, so who cared?

"Marinette," the anesthesiologist called gently. She looked at the figure, blurry considering the drugs running through her bloodstream and full of spots from recently looking away from the light. They held the oxygen mask that would soon put her unconscious.

Another wave of emotions tries to drown her. What were her choices again? Right. There weren't any.

She briefly looks at the doctor before licking her dry lips.

"Count backwards for me." She looks up again, enthralled by the light as if it was heaven itself opening up.

<>

Dull, enigmatic music echoed through the room. She came here filled with rage, but now, where has it gone? Nonetheless, she dares startle the boy cocooning himself in agony as she drags open the door.

"Alya," he utters her name from his place in the darkness.

"Stand up. We're going to see Marinette, and don't you dare argue with me."

For him not to move an inch was the last draw. She marches towards him and unexpectedly grabs him by the collar. He stands up, and she only pulls him closer. He looks at her daringly, and it makes her shiver enough to loosen her grip.

She swallows the lump in her throat.

"You fucking, fucking asshole." It would've been against her moral code to use such vulgar words, but there was no better way to put it.

"You think I don't know what you're doing. Marinette needs you more than ever you you're here, willowing in your own sadness."

"Fuck. You make me sick, Agreste because I was so fucking wrong about you. You're just, if not worse, like those other dicks." By now, both parties had tears flowing down their cheeks.

The words should've hurt more, but that would hurt her as well at this point.

"Are you fucking blind? She's dying and you act like some fucking miracle will happen, and you're taking that for granted!"

"Fuck! Why won't you talk?!" She allows herself to hit his chest like a band drum.

"Just go, Alya. It's not worth seeing my face." After all, how could he ever make up for such selfishness? She's delivered her message. He was more than right.

"I wish she never met you," she whispers before shutting the door with earth-shattering force.

<>

They'd taken enough precaution, adjusted every dose, yet the current situation might as well prove them wrong. In the end, they were just senior residents trying their hardest.

"Everyone," the supervisor's voice echoed through the room filled with surgeons hiding their panic.

"If the alternative is death, do whatever it takes to save her. She can't leave without saying goodbye." He knew they knew they couldn't give up, even if it's already been 28 minutes since she went into cardiac arrest and 40 since she started seizing. They had to save her even if it only gave her fifteen minutes to say goodbye.

<>

Paris was white with fog, normal for mid-January. She slightly bites her cheek before taking a deep breath and marching into the room, binder held tightly against her chest.

She takes in a sharp gasp. It wasn't her place to break down in front of everyone who gathered around the pale sleeping beauty breathing through an oxygen mask and soaking in cold sweats.

"Hey," she says shakily.

"I knew you'd come." Hearing the girl's coarse voice sent a vibration of pain through her.

"What did I tell you? You'll always have me." She accepts the seat from Sabine.

"I've always known I wouldn't die alone. Reminds me of Marie Antoinette in a good way." It has always been part of the job description; Clarice had to watch them have their final moments, but it was also what made her appreciate life, ignoring everything worth the complaining.

Silent moments are always most appreciated. In her head, she replays all the happy moments. The stale atmosphere might as well be the only thing to distract her.

"I think I'll love it there. It was beautiful, and- I could walk."

"Then He told me I forgot something." She slightly turns to look at the envelope peacefully lying on the table, and Clarice does the same.

"Make sure he gets it."

"Adrien?" She gives a slow nod, accompanied by a sensible, small smile.

"Do you think he'll forget everything? Hit the reset button." Her voice is nothing but a whisper by now, and the monitor beside her gives a warning beep.

"Never." She tucks the blanket closer, letting her feel a little warmer before the inevitable.

"I'll let him to, anyways." Eyes flutter shut, and the hand she's unknowingly held on to completely loses its grip.

Sabine's sobs clouded the telltale cry of the monitor attached to her now-deceased daughter. She moves away to let Thomas hug and kiss his daughter. They knew she was in good hands; they were entrusting her to the Almighty.


End file.
